


Rolling In The Deep

by yetanotherauthor



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mythology, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 03:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yetanotherauthor/pseuds/yetanotherauthor
Summary: Hashirama lives alone in a cabin by the beach spending his days fishing for his dinner and gathering pretty little pieces of the sea. In the evenings he likes to use the shells and things he collects to cast murals around his home, all the while unsuspecting of the deep things he will soon set loose upon the world - or the way his life is about to be changed forever.





	Rolling In The Deep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WrithingBeneathYou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrithingBeneathYou/gifts).



> A commission for WrithingBeneathYou that was an absolute joy to write!

With his habit of filling every room he stayed in for longer than a week with dozens of plants one might think Hashirama would have settled in a forest somewhere, a cottage in the woods covered with ivy and lost to the reaches of barbaric civilization. If there were any left to chase after him then perhaps it would have surprised them, then, to know that Hashirama has chosen to settle by the sea, had given his heart over to the tumultuous waves the moment he laid eyes on them.

Although the small cabin where he made his bed and cooked his meals still boasted an impressive amount of greenery that he cared for with a gentle touch Hashirama spent most of his days wandering along the broken coast looking for shells to add to his collection. Not much grew in the rocky soil here but there was something to be said for the soothing repetition of planting shells, arranging the stones and pieces he picked up along the shore in to patterns that probably wouldn’t make much sense to anyone else. Even Hashirama couldn’t have said where he got his ideas from. If asked he might have thought for a moment before admitting that it was almost as though the shells themselves spoke to him to tell him where they should go.

But there was no one to ask. Hashirama had settled here not long after losing his best friend to the wars that raged through their country, his parents gone many years before. With no siblings left and no other strong ties he had wandered until the sea called him, whispering, washing him clean of the grief that had plagued him until he found the place where he felt he was always meant to belong.

His feet bare, rough from so many days of travelling the rocky beaches without any shoes, Hashirama waded in to the water swirling around his ankles, chasing a bit of shine that had caught his eye underneath the foam. When he pulled it out he was thrilled to see a beautifully shaped conch shell, much bigger than any he’d found before. The iridescent insides must have been what drew him to it and he couldn’t be happier with such a delightful find. Conch shells were his absolute favorite and he usually made a point of including them as the centerpiece of each new garden mural.

This one, though. Clearly this one was too precious to be left outside. Hashirama grinned widely as he slid the large shell in to the bag of netting strapped to his waist, settling it carefully amongst his other treasures from the day’s explorations. Already the weight of so many pieces had begun to pull down one side of his clothing so he turned and headed back in the direction of the cabin where he mostly lived off the grid. For someone who had thrived on his social habits for most of his life he was doing pretty well in isolation. Living by the sea was like waking every morning to be cleansed yet again of the days before.

At home Hashirama made sure to wipe his feet clean so he wasn’t tracking grit inside the home and then headed straight for the kitchen sink. Most of his water was collected in rain barrels since seawater wasn’t actually safe for humans to drink. He did have a few filtering hand pumps to use in times of drought but they took so long he always preferred to simply use what nature had given him in its purest form. The basin left beside his sink was murky and brown, water that he changed out only when it no longer worked to rub off the residual sand and mud from whatever little treasures he brought home that day, but the cloudy water in it now was still clean enough to get the job done and before long he was laying the haul out on thin towels to dry and sort them.

Planning out a new mural was always a special sort of excitement for him. Looking over the shells and bits of worn down glass was like looking at all the possibilities of the universe laid out in front of him, a mystery until usually an idea came crashing down on him all at once.

Much as it did now. His fingers had only just brushed against the beautiful conch shell when an image appeared in his mind like a gift from the gods themselves. Hashirama blinked down at the spread and grinned brightly, a wild expression full of a joy he could never explain. Letting his fingers trace the edge of the conch for a moment, he looked about the small one room cabin to measure the size of his floor. So much of the land around his home had been covered with designs that were slowly creating a bigger picture but today it felt right to create one inside.

He began by fetching a bucket outside and mixing up some of the mortar he used to cast the designs and keep them in place. When the mix was ready he brought it inside and began by affixing the conch shell in the center of the room, upright and proud. At the base he laid out a circle of mortar and began to lay in swirling patterns of glass and shells in repeating color trends.

For several hours he worked without feeling the time pass him by. Dinner hour came and went but Hashirama paid little attention to the growling in his stomach, all of his focus bent on the pattern filling up the center of his home, an electric sort of energy building in his chest as he worked like a storm builds over roiling waves. By the time he finally reached the outer circle of his mural Hashirama had never felt more _one_ with the sea just outside his door. He could not have explained it but to him it required no explanation; the sea was calling and he had answered, it was as simple as that.

Laying the final pieces, a line of shattered glass worn smooth by the breaking waves and colored almost just the same, Hashirama stood up and stepped back to observe his work with a satisfied sigh. It was perfect.

It was also glowing.

Eyes wide and heartbeat immediately kick it up in to high gear, Hashirama reeled back away from the unexpected light in the middle of his home. There wasn’t really anywhere for him to go, though, not in such a limited space with nearly the entire floor taken up by shells and stones. His bare heels stumbled against the far wall and still he only managed a meter or so of distance before the ground underneath him began to rumble and shake.

Words could never do justice to the miracle that happened right before his eyes. Reality itself seemed to warp and shift and the floor stretched upwards until the conch shell seemed almost to reach the ceiling yet not a single crack or fault appeared in the wooden floorboards and the entire array settled back down to the earth unaffected.

Hashirama was not unaffected. The heart in his chest felt ready to leap straight up out of his throat as a cloud of sea foam sprayed up from the shell in the center of his masterpiece, hanging in the air in defiance of gravity, crowding together thicker and thicker until the center began to resemble something like the shape of a human being., four limbs and a head and a slim torso, vague but recognizable outlines. Hashirama waited with baited breath for the moment this incredible vision before him would fade so he could realize it had all been a hallucination.

And then two eyes opened within the form hanging before him. One of the arms lifted and a great breath drew inwards as though to fill a pair of lungs the size of a whale’s. The human parts of Hashirama’s mind refused to believe what he was seeing even as the parts inside that listened to the whispering of the seashells he gathered watched calmly on, undisturbed by the sight of sea foam solidifying in to the most beautiful man-shaped creature he could never have imagined in his wildest dreams.

“How sweet the air tastes in the lungs of a free man.” The creature’s eyes were red, a perfect match to the designs swirling endless and mesmerizing down his naked limbs. “You, human. You have released me from the eternal prison which has held me for centuries beyond your ken. What do you ask in reward?”

“Uh…” Hashirama blinked rapidly but the dream refused to face.

“Have you nothing you desire above all else? Speak quickly now. I would know for what purpose you have blessed this world with my return.”

Staring helped in no way to figure out the insanity happening around him and so Hashirama pressed himself harder against the wall behind him and swallowed his fear. “I…I didn’t…I don’t want anything? Were you really trapped in the conch shell? Letting you out was a-an accident. Should I not have done that?”

For a few horrid seconds he wondered what hell he’d just unleashed upon the world but then the figure before him scowled deeply and it was the most stunning thing he had ever seen.

“Thieves! Pretenders!” The figure slashed a hand through the air with rage and Hashirama took in the sight of his body in better detail, startled to realize that the designs on his skin were a perfect match to the ones outside in the garden. “Betrayers! Long have I awaited the chance to see them face their end for what they have done to me. You, human, you have done well. Now shall the great wave of justice fall upon them all.”

“Who is…them?” Hashirama dared to ask.

“False gods,” the creature hissed.

“Ah. Well. I certainly haven’t met any gods around here. Except maybe- are _you_ a god?!”

His curiosity brought the light of pride to the creature’s eyes and he couldn’t help but swell with pride of his own for having pleased the other. It was possible that he’d inhaled too much salt from the air.

“I am the truest of gods, ruler of the seas, guardian of the deep places. I am the ocean and the lakes and the rivers. Yes. I am a god.”

“You’re _pretty_.” As soon as the words were out Hashirama clapped both hands over his mouth.

The god-creature looked at him with one eyebrow lifted and for a moment he thought he’d said something terribly wrong. He certainly didn’t expect to have the thing drift closer, alighting on the floor with the tips of his toes and bending down to study Hashirama like a scientific specimen. Why that should send a thrill down his spine he didn’t know; all he knew was that he felt strangely honored to be the center of this being’s attention.

“I sense no true fear in you,” it said. “Fear of the unknown as all human’s suffer but none for the knowledge that you behold a god with your own eyes.”

“Should I be scared? Are you going to hurt me?”

“The intention had not occurred to me,” the creature admitted.

With tension sliding out of his body like water from a sieve Hashirama relaxed. “Good! Well if you’re not going to hurt me then I don’t see why I should be afraid. Although, I do have to admit I’m really not sure how I’m supposed to talk to a god. You said you’ve been trapped for, um, a long time. Are you hungry?”

He wasn’t sure what food the gods ate or if his simple meals of mostly seafood would be offensive but it felt even more rude not to offer at all. To his surprise the suggestion seemed to baffle his unexpected guest.

“You would offer me hospitality?”

“Of course!”

“Very well. Unorthodox indeed but I find this offer pleasing.” He seemed to pause, red eyes sliding over to glace towards the kitchen area of the large room. “Will you be serving eel?”

The poorly concealed interest in his voice made Hashirama smile. Despite claiming to be an all-powerful god there was still an odd sort of innocence in him that made Hashirama want to tuck him under one wing and shield him from the world. Even knowing that this being could probably delete him from the face of the earth with barely a thought wasn’t enough to stop him from feeling oddly protective. Anyone who could look that cute deserved a little protection even if they were a holy being of elemental power more ancient than humanity as a whole.

As it turned out, he did have some eel he had planned to eat that night. Not having expected any company there was really only enough to fill one plate but Hashirama happily sacrificed his intended dinner in favor of watching the being across from him devour it with the gusto of one who’d had centuries to contemplate what meal they craved the most. It was incredible to watch. When the eel was gone he offered to fetch something else, almost disappointed when he was denied.

“You are a paragon of virtue among your kind,” the god told him. Drawing up to his full height, he seemed entirely unaware of the fact that he was still utterly naked. “Though you do not ask it, such valorous deeds call for a reward. You deserve the honor of knowing my true. I am Tobirama and I would know your name in return if you will grant me such a gift.”

“It’s nice to meet you Tobirama. My name is Hashirama. We rhyme!”

“That we do.” His eyes blinked slowly and his expression did not so much as twitch but Hashirama got the impression he had amused the god. There was something soft in the way he looked at the human who had set him free.

“Will you return to the sea now?” Hashirama asked, trying hard to conceal the strange sadness it gave him just to think about it.

After all, it wasn’t every day one accidentally set an imprisoned god free in one’s living room. This was more excitement than he’d seen in years, more excitement than he’d known he craved in his perfectly calm life here on the shore. In all the time Hashirama had spent here alone by the sea he had never once been lonely and yet watching a fire light itself behind Tobirama’s eyes gave him the strangest notion that he would finally understand that feeling.

“I must take back what is rightfully mine. Long will be the battle, hard will be the fight, but I will triumph. The waves belong to me; they will remember my voice when I speak to them.” Tobirama lifted his chin, back stiff with pride, and Hashirama couldn’t help but think he would never see anything like this again in his lifetime. Even without their supernatural first meeting he would know this was a god standing before him by this image alone.

“Good luck,” he murmured softly. What else does one say to a god who goes to war? “You, ah, you are always welcome here.”

Tobirama nodded to him once. “Your help will be remembered…Hashirama.”

His gaze lingered after he spoke but it was the way the syllables rolled of his tongue when he said the name that made Hashirama shiver. Never in his life had he heard someone made love to a single word like that. But when he opened his eyes again all that was left of the god he had set free was a small puddle of sea foam in the shape of two footprints on his floor.

Sleep that night was long in coming. As he’d suspected, Hashirama’s thoughts were awhirl with the incredible events he had initiated by accident. Planting murals instead of a garden had seemed like such a fun idea and he’d always found it so relaxing, the way he could lose himself in the task, and until now he hadn’t really thought to question why it always seemed like the shells and stones were speaking to him, why he _knew_ in the core of his being that the patterns he crafted were _right_. Now it all made sense.

And of course now he wondered if he would ever make another mural again now that his work felt completed.

When he woke the next day Hashirama spent a long time staring up at the ceiling and trying to remember every minute detail of Tobirama’s face, his long pale limbs, the heat in his eyes and the way his hair had floated about his head as though lifted by a current only he could see. After witnessing something as incredible as the night before he didn’t want to waste away the rest of his life wondering if he had dreamed the whole thing. Tobirama was real. He had met a god, summoned one from imprisonment right in to the center of his own home. And considering the eternal lifespan of such a being he was sure that if Tobirama ever spared a thought for him again it would be centuries and eons after his own short years had already run out.

Going about his days as though nothing happened in the weeks after felt strange. Not empty, which was somehow even more strange since he almost expected his life to feel cold and meaningless now, but rather than the easy contentment of before he woke every morning with the taste of yearning under his tongue and went through the motions with a distinct feeling as though he were waiting for something to happen. He knew it was ridiculous and he wasn’t even sure what exactly he was waiting for but still he took the time every afternoon to dip his feet in the sea and stare out over the waves, calling with his heart while his voice remained silent.

It was during this daily ritual that Hashirama realized his life was to be changed even more than he realized. Foam and salt clinging to his calves, a bag of pretty shells and stones hanging from his belt as usual though he had yet to craft anything new with them, nothing seemed too out of the ordinary until he noticed one wave that rose higher than the rest and refused to crest. Closer and closer the swell approached and just as he began to wonder if he should back away further up the beach the top of it exploded in a spray of dark water and the crest that broke over the top was the white of Tobirama’s arms parting his way to the surface. Hashirama looked on in fascination until he found himself pinned in place by the warmth of those beautiful red eyes.

“Hashirama,” the deity greeted him with reverence in his tone.

“Tobirama. Your worship. Highness? I have no idea how to address a god!” Flustered, he wrung his hands together and shifted his weight back and forth between his feet.

“My name is all you need address me with if you will grant me the same honor in return.”

“ _Honor_.” Hashirama let out a nervous giggle to have his fragile human self be considered honorable in any way when held up against an actual living divinity.

Stepping closer across the surface of the water as easily as one might walk on smooth glass, Tobirama very carefully dipped his toes until he sank beneath the surface and stood half a foot in front of the one who had saved him. With some amusement Hashirama noted then that he was actually taller than the being before him. For some reason that felt both incredibly wrong and so, _so_ right.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again,” he admitted, lips pulling in to a friendly smile by instinct. “Did you take back what was yours?” To his surprise Tobirama frowned and looked away.

“No. Many battles have been fought beneath the ever-changing tides since last we parted and still the war is far from over, though I will not lose hope. I have…more to protect now than I had when first they cast me down to rot in that infernal cage.” When his eyes slid back to lock with Hashirama's they carried something heavy in them but he said nothing more which might have explained what that something could be.

“Would you like to come inside and rest?” Just as when he had offered dinner during their first meeting, the words came out with little thought. It simply felt like the only thing to say.

Hashirama was surprised to see such blinding happiness hiding behind the shadow of a smile that flashed across Tobirama’s face as he nodded and murmured grateful acceptance. Walking down the shore together with their feet in the sea was surreal mostly in the way it wasn’t actually surreal. Tobirama encouraged him to speak about himself, citing a wish to hear about anything but the struggles he had been through in the prior months, and Hashirama had always been a talker. Rambling on at a hundred words a minute never felt more natural.

As they walked and he chattered Hashirama noticed Tobirama glancing down at the bag of treasures hanging from his hip. Then when they arrived at his cabin he saw the looks his growing pile of shells received as well but he wasn’t sure what to say. Picking out pretty little shards of the sea felt natural still even if he wasn’t sure what to do with them now. Just the idea of adding on to what he’d already created felt like a violation, like sacrilege against a religion that only he believed in.

Once inside he offered Tobirama a seat on the only place to sit other than his single kitchen chair. The couch was something he had partly made himself, a frame of wood cut by his own hands and softened with cushions bought from the only town within a several day’s walk. It wasn’t exactly fit to hold a god but neither was anything else Hashirama thought he could ever buy or build so it wasn’t worth the fuss of looking for something better. He settled himself on the edge of his rickety bed across the small room and thought about how badly he wanted to sit on the other end of the couch instead.

“So…did you need something here in the human world or did you just need somewhere to go for a while?”

“I came to see you,” Tobirama told him plainly. “Thoughts of you continue to plague me no matter how far away from you I go.”

“Oh. Uh. I don’t think I’ve ever been a plague before…”

To his surprise Tobirama stood from the couch he’d only just settled on to stalk across the room with deliberate footsteps. “I meant no insult, only for you to know that my attention is yours and my thoughts as well.”

“I think about you too,” Hashirama breathed. “I mean, how could I not? Until I saw foam spraying up out of a perfectly normal looking conch shell I wasn’t even sure if I believed in a god or the gods or whatever the truth of it all is. And then suddenly there you were!” His hands made wide gesticulations in the air as he spoke, a habit he’d never thought much about, but he thought about it now as he watched Tobirama’s lips twitching again. Knowing that he had the power to make a deity smile was definitely something that might go to his head.

“You are unlike any other I have ever met.”

“Any other human?”

“Human, divinity, creature, the sea and the earth herself, none could be said to compare with you.” Tobirama reached out to slide his pale fingers under Hashirama's chin, gazing deeply in to his eyes. “When you speak you command the tides to listen. I can remember no other who has held such power over me and yet I find myself entirely unafraid. Call to me, Hashirama, and always I will come.”

Nearly half a minute passed before Hashirama could speak again, overwhelmed as he was. “I can’t begin to guess what’s so special about me but…I’m touched. And I would make the offer in return but I can’t imagine what I could give if you ever needed help.”

“Being in your presence is more help than you know, a balm for my tired soul.”

“Wow…”

He wasn’t really sure what to say to that, a reoccurring theme it seemed when it came to the being before him, so Hashirama did what he did best. He babbled on about this or that and told little stories about the small adventures to be found in every day human life. While he spoke Tobirama stood over him with fingers tracing the sides of his face and down his neck, running through the strands of his hair, listening with an enraptured expression that never once shifted towards boredom. It seemed to Hashirama he could talk about the most inconsequential things and still Tobirama would give his words the same weight as if he were speaking about the fate of the very world itself.

Time slipped by without notice as it used to when he worked with his murals, more evidence that it had been Tobirama who called him to the task all along. When night fell Hashirama made them both a simple meal and he asked for a story in return. His food went cold while he listened with the same fervor he had received in turn, stories about the beginning of the world itself, stories of when the ocean was brighter and cleaner, when it was new and untested and full of youthful exuberance.

Now Tobirama referred to his seas with the respect of one who knows much, wise and patient until called to their purpose whereupon they frothed with a fury no mere mortal could ever hope to match.

Before the witching hour could come and go Tobirama saw that Hashirama was trying to cover his yawns and reluctantly announced that he should leave. No attempts to convince him that it was fine to go sleepless for one night would change his mind and Hashirama tried to insist on walking him back to the water instead but that suggestion was shot down as well.

He found himself talked in to laying down and allowing a celestial being to tuck him in to bed like a child. When he fell asleep it was with the sounds of the ocean whispering in his ear, bringing dreams of the lively depths as he had never imagined them before. Hashirama woke the next morning alone knowing in his heart that this was not the last time he would see Tobirama. The thought was a comforting one and he greeted the day with a smile ever so slightly bigger than usual.

A new tradition was born from that morning onward. Each day Hashirama rose with the sun he would break his fast as quickly as possible and hurry out to sit with his toes in the sea, chattering away about anything that came to mind and imagining that his words could be carried through the water to Tobirama. Quite often he took up the habit as he trundled up and down the beach looking for shells or when he stood perched in one spot for hours at a time waiting for his dinner to swim trustingly by. It gave him the feeling that Tobirama was always by his side, immediately quenching the feeling of loneliness that had cropped up in the weeks before.

When his god showed up a few weeks later he wasn’t surprised. Nor was Hashirama surprised to see him again several weeks after that. It became strange to go more than a few months without Tobirama’s pale skin breaking the surface of the sea that made his home and greeting Hashirama with a smile edged in adventure. He told tales of the war between himself and the great forces that had cast him out so many eons ago, of how he fought tirelessly to take back what had always been rightfully his. Hashirama devoured every word. Of course he would listen happily to anything Tobirama wanted to say but there was something fascinating that any human would understand about discovering the world of the gods, being gifted a small glimpse in their lives.

Before Hashirama realized it a year had passed and it had become normal for Tobirama to appear whenever he pleased with tales of bloody battle in his head and gentleness on his fingertips. Their relationship was an odd one, lingering touches and long gazes that stretched in to silence as each drank in the sight of the other, and Hashirama wouldn’t change a moment of it. Winter froze the stones along his beach but nothing could stop him from dipping his toes in the water just for the hope that this might be the day Tobirama came back to him again.

Their pattern felt as immutable as the waves crashing against the shore until the day Tobirama came to him in the middle of the night with bruises on his skin and breathing heavily like the air had been stolen from his lungs. Hashirama rushed to help him lie down in the bed and fussed over not knowing how one was supposed to care for a godly being until Tobirama pulled him down atop the covers as well.

“Your presence alone is all the healing I require.”

“But–!”

“Please.” Tobirama’s voice whispered in the space between them, his expression earnest despite the pain hiding behind his eyes. What else could Hashirama do but nod slowly and card his fingers through Tobirama’s hair as the other had done for him a dozen times and more.

When the deity’s breathing had slowed to a more normal rhythm Hashirama finally felt it was time to ask. “What happened?”

“I thought myself ready. I was mistaken.”

“Ready for what?” Even as he spoke he kept his hand in motion, petting at the soft white locks under his palm with gentle strokes, weaving the strands between his fingers and rubbing at the scalp beneath.

“I thought the time was ripe to finally win my throne back once and for all. My enemies were…stronger than I believed them to be. I failed.”

“You’ll beat them,” Hashirama said with certainty. “The sea belongs to you and you’ll show them that. From what I understand of your stories the world gave birth to the seas _for you_ so I have little doubt that things will go back to the way they should be eventually and then you can go home!”

Tobirama caught his hand and pulled it down to hold between both of his own. “I hear sadness in your voice.”

“Well, I mean I’m not sad about you getting the things that belong to you back! It’s just that I’m going to miss you. You know? When you’re busy ruling over the seas and I’ve always imagined that you probably have a palace waiting for you somewhere so you won’t have any need to come rest here in a rough cabin with a weak human. I’ll miss you when you don’t need me anymore. But I’ll still be happy for you.”

Hashirama smiled as bravely as he could, faltering only when Tobirama made as though to sit up and he had to wrestle the other back down to the blankets with tutting sounds and reminders that he was injured. When Tobirama lay on his back once more Hashirama thought himself to have come out on top of their little scuffle until he found cool hands framing both sides of his face and Tobirama’s eyes staring in to his own so deeply that if he had not already sworn his very soul to this being he would have lost it in that moment.

“Would that I had known you believed my visits to be only a necessity; I would have given you the truth a long time ago. Sweet Hashirama, honest and good Hashirama, it has never been necessity that brings me back to you but choice. I told you once that you plagued my thought but instead let me amend my statement: you bless them. Every moment of every day I mark the time until I am able to see you again. You give my life a purpose I have never known, a happiness I was unaware I had been living without.” Ignoring the pains his body must be feeling he pulled the human in his grasp down until their faces were close enough for him to lift his head and grace Hashirama's cheek with a single chaste kiss, leaving him close to speechless.

“You kissed me!”

“I did.”

“But Tobi- oh, uh, I mean Tobirama- but I’m just…I’m human.”

Narrowed eyes told him he would need to explain the accidental slip of a nickname he kept only in his head and whispered to himself at night when he was far from the water but for now Tobirama seemed more interested in clearing up other matters first. His grasp was relentless in keeping them pinned together, close enough to breathe each other’s air.

“And what should your humanity have to do with my fondness for you?”

“You’re a _god_!”

“Indeed. That answers not my question.”

Hashirama chewed on his lower lip, not too distracted to see the way Tobirama’s gaze fell to openly admire the movement, and stopped only because he thought if his friend continued to stare at him in such a way he might combust from too many emotions all trying to claw their way out of him at the same time. Emotions had always been his forte. It was at least a little ironic that they chose to be so difficult now in what must be the most important moment of his life.

Every moment with Tobirama was important. Precious. Locked away in memory to be relived over and over in the times when they were kept apart.

“I’m just a human,” he murmured quietly. “I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you didn’t care about me any more than just a place to go, I just meant…how much can a god really care for one human? There are billions of us! And we must seem so small and child-like to you – and so transient! Our life spans must be nothing but a fraction of yours. Wouldn’t it just hurt you in the end if you let yourself get attached to a human like me?” It was uncomfortable to face all these worries head on that, until now, he hadn’t allowed himself to even acknowledge were there. He had been happy to receive the gift of Tobirama’s presence whenever he could and he had been more than happy to give of himself whatever his friend asked. Beyond that he hadn’t questioned.

“You cannot possibly know how precious you are to me,” Tobirama rumbled.

“Well now who’s not answering what the other person said?”

“Be calm, Hashirama. Your life may be but a fraction of mine, that is true, and though I have the power to change that I know well that it would be your choice to accept or decline such a weighty offer. Whether your life is long or short, however, that in no way changes how much I have been changed by our meeting.” Even laid out on his back as he was on a plain, rickety old bed Tobirama managed to make every word past his lips sound momentous.

It was enough to bring tears to Hashirama's eyes, turning his voice rough when he tried to respond. “You’ve changed me too. I don’t think I would know who I am without you anymore and that’s scary but it’s also amazing.” Sniffling, trying not to drip tears on the one below him, he bit his lip again for a moment. “What did you mean that you could change…?”

“The length of your lifespan. It is within my power to extend your life for as long as I choose, to grant you the same immortality against aging and mortal wounds as I came in to being with.”

“Oh wow. Okay. Maybe you should sleep a while before you try anything like that? You definitely look like you could use some rest before anything else.” Hashirama pushed himself up and flustered around in a tizzy, pulling the blankets in to place, fluffing the pillow, anything to occupy a mind that was suddenly too full.

For a minute Tobirama simply lay still and let him do as he would. Red eyes stayed focused on him even as they drooped to half-mast with obvious fatigue. Whatever he had been through recently that led to him showing up covered in bruises and looking ready to collapse, Hashirama was sure he couldn’t imagine half of it in his wildest nightmares. Anything that could injure a god was beyond him for sure.

Only when Hashirama moved to step actually away from the bed did Tobirama snap a hand out and catch his wrist to pull him back down with worry stamped across his brow.

“I have upset you,” he murmured.

“No! No I’m not upset, promise!” Hashirama swallowed nervously and used his other hand to play with a loose thread in his old blanket. “Immortality…that’s just a lot to soak in, you know? For you maybe not but for me- I’ve lived my whole life knowing that I would get old and die someday. The idea of living forever is just really big to wrap my head around.”

“My apologies, precious one. I did not mean to alarm you.”

“Precious one?” Cheeks flushing, he paused just long enough for Tobirama to take advantage of his distraction and pull him down again, this time laying their bodies side by side and throwing the blanket over both of them.

The god of the sea embraced his human companion tightly and whispered in his ear, “You are my most precious treasure.”

Hashirama had nothing to say to that. Or rather it would be more accurate that he had too many things he wanted to say all at once and yet ended up saying nothing, overwhelmed with the sensation of having the length of his body pressed along Tobirama’s side, laying his head atop a deity’s chest and listening to the rhythmic thrum of a too-slow heartbeat. It seemed amazing to him that he could even be in this moment and yet that steady beat in his ear was just calming enough to send him tumbling down in to pleasant dreams before he had a chance to lay awake and be amazed at how his life had turned out.

Morning came slowly through rosy eyelids that refused to open even hours after the sun had risen outside the windows. Hashirama was much more interested in burrowing closer to the solid warmth underneath him and purring each time he felt something scratch down the back of his neck. It took falling back asleep three times before finally his stomach protested a bit too loud to ignore and finally he blinked to clear his vision and let a new day in.

He was a little startled to see Tobirama blinking back at him with hooded eyes and an expression he could only compare to a satisfied feline. Sometime during the night he had apparently crawled his way directly on top of the other and Tobirama seemed to have absolutely no problems with bearing his weight, entertaining himself while the human slept by stroking any little bits of skin he could reach.

“Good morrow.”

“Your bruises are all gone!”

“It is in my nature to heal quickly. And now that I am healed I must return to the conflict.”

Hashirama pouted and dropped his face in to the god’s chest with an obstinate noise. “No.”

“Yes,” Tobirama chuckled. “If I wish to show you my kingdom then first I must win it back from those who cast me out of it.” That certainly brought Hashirama back up.

“Show me?”

His friend hummed and used both hands to comb the hair back from his human’s face. “Is it so strange that I wish to show you the best version of myself? When I show you my true strength I would like you to be impressed more than disappointed.”

“You could be god of the puddles and I would be impressed,” Hashirama told him, grinning widely.

“That is not as comforting as I’m sure you meant it to be.”

“Well you’re smiling so I got what I wanted!” With a laugh Hashirama allowed himself to be rolled off to one side, not really surprised when Tobirama followed and curled their bodies close together.

From the way those beautiful red eyes traced every line and crevice of his face Hashirama got the impression that this time Tobirama would be away for a longer stretch than usual. In case that was true he followed suit, drinking in as many details of the beloved face before him as he could, memorizing things he had already memorized plenty of times before.

Before he left Tobirama agreed to stay for breakfast and afterwards they walked down to the shore together. His toes had only just entered the water when he turned back and reached for Hashirama – only to dissolve in to the same foam that had made up his form when he was first released from imprisonment. The ocean stretched out cold and empty without his presence and Hashirama was left standing on the beach with seafoam chilling his feet, arms empty, and a feeling of dread growing inside his chest.

As it turned out, his predictions were correct in the worst way.

For such a social person Hashirama had rarely found his life here on the shore lonely before. He felt lonely now. Days passed, seasons changed, sunsets and sunrises and hot afternoons left him behind in a mundane parade of emptiness with no knocks at the door, no swelling of the sea. No Tobirama.

The longer he continued on alone the less Hashirama found joy in things he always had. So many days in a row the bag of netting at his hip hung empty that after a while he began to leave it at home, unable to see the point in collecting pretty shells when he never did anything with them. Hours at a time passed while he sat with his feet in the water, staring out across the distance before him in silence, no point in speaking when there was nothing to say. There were only so many ways he could express how much he missed the one who had changed his life so thoroughly.

He grew a beard in the winter. Shaved it off in spring. In the summer he sat on the beach and faced away from the waves, thinking of how far it was to the nearest town, then discarded the idea. Better to wait here forever than to leave and let the memories fade with every step. In the chill of autumn he walked in to the sea and let his body rock with the gentle motions imagining all the while it was Tobirama’s arms buoying him up.

Winter passed quiet again and spring returned. Hashirama woke one morning to find that nature, as she does, had found a way in to the places where humanity tried to keep her away. Small flowers poking up through the floorboards around the edges of the masterpiece he’d created in the center of his home were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes and for a long while he simply lay under the blankets and smiled a sort of empty smile. He would have liked to show Tobirama what a pretty accent the flowers made. He would have liked to see all that pale while skin dripping with many-colored blossoms, two such immutable branches of nature all twined together like a living portrait.

Several of the blossoms were growing outside his door as well and Hashirama plucked them to weave in to his hair as he made his way down to the beach that morning. Most of the food in his fridge was gone and today the weather was good for fishing. But a ritual was a ritual and in his loneliness Hashirama found it comforting to make his silent greetings before starting the chores each day, keeping his own faded hope alive.

Despite calm weather stretching as far as he could see the waves were choppy and almost violent. Hashirama stood just out of reach and stared out with apathetic wonder at the madness around him. Powerful waves crashed and sprayed and broke and tumbled and all he could do was watch until something incredible happened.

Between one spray of water and the next there he was. Tobirama stood proud over the surface of the sea that made his home and Hashirama had to rub his eyes several times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating out of such a strong desire for the impossible. Something about him seemed different in a way but Hashirama was less interested in that than he was in stumbling forward like a magnet drawn to a lodestone, eyes wide with stunned disbelief. Tobirama opened his arms and Hashirama fell in to them with laughter choking his throat.

“You’re here,” he whispered, a painful echo of the first time he thought his god lost to him forever.

“Every day apart from you was more painful than the last. I cannot apologize enough for how long I have been away.” Still holding him tightly, Tobirama pulled his head back until they could look each other in the eye again. “Knowing you so faithfully awaited my return was at times the only thing which kept all strength from leaving me.”

“I thought about you every day.”

“I heard you.”

Hashirama's heart fluttered joyfully inside his chest. All of the times he had sat by the water and chatted about his mundane adventures suddenly took on a deeper meaning. He had considered the idea that his words might indeed have been carried to the one they were meant for but to have such an idea confirmed was different. Now he felt bad for the way he had slowly fallen in to silence as the seasons turned and he wondered what Tobirama of that, if the other ever doubted that he would still be waiting.

“Why now?” he asked. “You were gone for so long. What kept you?”

Cocking one eyebrow Tobirama stepped back over deeper waters. Hashirama had barely enough time to register that he himself was floating above the surface too before the next words registered as well.

“I came to bring you home.”

“Home? I am h- what do you mean?”

“Everything is as it should be now. The seas are mine and those who cast me out have been laid low. Now I come to you with my heart in my hands and I will bend a knee if you ask it of me, I will beg if it should please you. Come with me, precious one.”

“Down…there?” Dropping his gaze to the water beneath them, Hashirama licked his lips anxiously, elation warring with confusion inside him. “I don’t know that I would last very long in a place where I can’t breathe.”

Tobirama’s laugh was a great crashing wave breaking over them both.

“It is within my power to grant you that ability just as it is within my power to extend your life.”

“Oh good! Drowning really didn’t sound like fun to me.” Hashirama grinned a silly little grin, dizzy with the rush of hearing Tobirama laugh after so long in silence.

Cool fingers brushed his cheeks and Tobirama’s gaze was hot in contrast as it pinned him in place. “My domain has a god but it does not have a king. Come with me. I will give you a throne and you will rule from the palace I have won for you. I will be the seas and the oceans and you will be the rivers and the brooks and the streams. I will be the storm that rages to test the mettle of all men and you will be the gentle goodness that brings life to every living creature. What say you?”

What else could he say?

“I would follow you anywhere,” Hashirama confessed.

“Anywhere?”

“Yes. Yes! I don’t know about me being a king – I’d probably find a way to trip over a fish or something – but yes. I’ll come with you.” He beamed, already excited even if he didn’t really have a very clear idea of what lay ahead of him.

He was unprepared for Tobirama to tilt his head and draw them together for a deep kiss that burned through him like wildfire, not a sensation he would have expected from this particular god yet one that he gave himself over to entirely and without hesitation. The idea of having Tobirama burned in to his veins as a part of him that could never be separated again was a good one. When their lips parted he felt as though he was breathing again for the first time but he hadn’t a care in the world for whether it was because of something Tobirama had done or if it was just the sheer relief of his every dream coming true. What mattered was Tobirama’s smile when he threw himself forward in to another messy, eager kiss.

Colors seemed brighter around them and the air tasted sweeter when Tobirama held his hands and stepped back over the crashing waves. Hashirama followed with the confidence of one who trusted their partner implicitly, not a single thought spared for whether or not the water would hold him but focused completely on the deep red eyes that held him captive and called to him in a way he couldn’t help but respond to.

“Always has it been me that comes home to you,” Tobirama murmured, one foot sinking beneath the foam and brine. “Now the pleasure is mine to call you home to my side.”

“I like the sound of that,” Hashirama said.

“Which sound would that be, beloved?”

“You calling me home. Going home to you. Just you and home in the same sentence; it makes me happy.” If he smiled any wider his jaw would be aching later but Hashirama couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. He had never been happier in his life.

His joy appeared to be infectious as Tobirama’s own smile continued to grow wider, the entirety of his being shining with glee, and finally Hashirama understood what was different about him: his purpose had been restored. At last he had wrested back control of what had always belonged to him and he stood somehow taller than before with all the power of his birthright behind him. To look upon him now was to look upon glory personified.

“Is it pretty under the ocean?” Hashirama asked, his own feet inching beneath the surface with merely a thought.

“Your presence could outshine any beauty,” Tobirama replied with a softly teasing grin.

Sometime while he’d been away he had also apparently learned how to lay on the compliments. Hashirama was finding it hard to complain.

“Kiss me again,” he breathed. Tobirama did so happily. “I’m ready to go home now.”

“I would enjoy nothing more than to do as you ask.”  

“Oh, well, keep that in mind for later.”

They shared a heated look that said so much without either of them needing to speak a word. When Tobirama sank beneath the water Hashirama went with him, both of them disappearing with nary a splash, though neither human nor beast were present to bear witness to the sight.

It was not, however, the last that lonely stretch of beach would see of them. Over the centuries many would visit and see the log cabin standing empty, feel a strange energy from the murals cast around it, but none would dare to enter and violate the sanctity of whatever lay inside. And sometimes during the night many would claim to see a light inside with two shadows moving about within the cabin but none would ever know the truth. The god of the seas and the oceans, bringer of storms, would never find a place happier than the quaint little cabin where he met his husband, king of the rivers and brooks and streams, compassionate giver of life.

And never would they find themselves quite so full of peace as they were in the moments they took away from their duties to fall in love again and again in the place where they first began.


End file.
